


Fix-It Ticket

by AdumbDryer



Category: BlacKkKlansman (2018)
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Patrol! Flip Zimmerman, Shitty Driver! Reader, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:54:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23252773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdumbDryer/pseuds/AdumbDryer
Summary: Just a one-shot meet cute thingy with a young Patrol! Flip Zimmerman just starting out!Idk I'm a bad driver  help
Relationships: Flip Zimmerman/Reader, Flip Zimmerman/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Fix-It Ticket

The worn tires of his cop car screech in the dust as Flip pulls to a stop and sighs deeply into his seat, shifting uncomfortably. He looks over at the clock on his dashboard and groans, exhausted.

He’s only been on the clock for two hours yet it feels like he’s been working all damn day. He loves his job, just slow days like these is what eats away at his patience and sanity. He knows long boring days out on the side of the road in bumfuck nowhere are only temporary. The least he wants is his own desk. He’s tired of constantly moving around and patrolling the area, it's too jarring. He just wants his own space that's not just a narrow hidden space behind a big rickety old billboard.

He digs out his cigarette pack and plucks it in between his lips. He stares off into the never-ending highway, stretching into pure nothingness. Just vegetation and heatwaves. 

He just needs to pay his dues. He’ll rise through the ranks soon enough.

He’ll make sure of it. 

But for now, he’s sitting on his ass, checking the speed of every damn car that passes by, which haven't been many. So far, he’s counted only four cars that have passed by, all remaining at or even _under_ the speed limit. 

He purses his lips. He’s a rather reckless driver himself so he can't blame others for wanting to get where they need to be faster, but this road, in particular, is _real_ dangerous. Riding just on the edge of that steep cliff, dipping down into a massive creek. The lanes are already pretty small, and there isn’t much fencing separating the road from the cliff. 

And when it's cold and snowing, forget about it. 

Plenty of drivers, drunk or sober, have gone just a little too fast on that road or made that turn just a little too sharp, and over they go. And when you go over, you ain't coming back up that’s for sure. 

He pulls out today's newspaper, happy with himself that he picked it up before leaving for his shift. He shakes out the paper and flips to where he was reading last. He only gets a few paragraphs in before he feels sleepiness pull at his eyelids. 

Flip tries to blink away drowsiness, but the temptation of taking a nap is too great and he eventually lets up. He hasn't seen a car pass for quite some time now, he should be fine to take a small nap, especially considering the shit sleep he got last night.

He leans back, resting his head on his shoulder and closes his eyes, taking in the heat radiating through the glass from the sun, welcoming it in the cold Colorado winter air. 

He doesn't remember if he had dreamt or not. All he could feel was warm sunshine beaming on his face, his body floating effortlessly as if he were lying on soft clouds. He smiles to himself and snuggles into the material of his jacket, finally relaxed. 

The loud roar of an exhaust pipe is what rips him back to reality and he nearly jumps out of his car seat. His newspaper resting on his face flies up and scatters everywhere and he groans, snatching the loose papers, trying to figure out who the hell is responsible. 

He throws the crumpled newspapers to the side angrily. And whips his head over, catching sight of a rickety old yellow Porsche with chipped paint and- he nearly laughs at the sight- bent exhaust pipe, scraping at the road beneath the car, and both tail lights out.

He sits up in his car and starts his engine, smirking to himself. 

Finally, a little bit of action. 

~~

The angry scream of your engine makes you nearly squeal with delight as you speed down the highway, relishing the way the wind blows through your hair. 

You don't mind the freezing air nipping at your skin, not when the sun is shining so brightly, you're going the fastest you’ve ever been, the music blaring through your radio is sounding _just_ right. 

Life is good. 

You grin to yourself, tapping your finger to the beat of the music and enjoying the freedom that comes with driving down a lonely road without a care in the world. 

A bright light shines out of the corner of your eye, and you look over to your rear-view mirror and the grin on your face falls.

“Shit!” you hiss, letting your foot off the gas pedal. 

Of course, there was a fucking cop hidden somewhere around here, can never let a girl have _too_ much fun. 

You pull over to the side of the road, pulling off your sunglasses, leaning back into your seat and sighing, trying to figure out how you could flirt your way out of this, hoping that the cop will at least _actually_ be attractive. That would certainly make things easier. 

The cop’s car drifts to a stop behind you, and you bite at the edge of your sunglasses in boredom. The loud slam of the car door makes you look back and…

 _Looks like it's your lucky day,_ you grin to yourself devilishly. 

The first thing you notice about him is the _swagger_ , how the cigarette lazily dangling off his lips as he breathes in small puffs, taking his sweet time ‘cause he knows he’s got all yours. 

You look him up and down, silently praising such a strong beautiful body in those tight jeans and- _oh_ that face. 

He saunters up to your window and leans over, resting his forearm on the roof of your car and boring his eyes into you. 

You look up at him with the most innocent eyes you can muster and give him a small smile. 

“Evening officer,” you greet him in a chipper tone, “How can I be of service?” 

“Do you have any idea how fast you were going?” he asks, his gruff voice booming. 

At a closer look, he’s even more handsome than you thought. You gulp. Dark intense eyes squint at you while he purses his lips in disappointment, trails of smoke lingering in the air. 

“No sir,” you shake your head.

He stares at you a bit, clearly unconvinced, lips quirking upward into a smirk. 

When he was chasing your car down he certainly didn't expect to see such a pretty lady such as yourself behind the wheel. He tries his best to keep his eyes trained on your own, but he finds himself letting his gaze drift down the smooth column of your neck, the soft skin of your breasts _just_ peeking out of your shirt. 

Still, a pretty face doesn't mean he’s gonna be giving you special treatment. 

Well, at least not this time. 

“You were going almost eighty miles an hour on this road. This speed limit is forty,” he says with a tilt of the head, strands of long dark hair falling into his face. 

You give a small defeated sigh, “I’m sorry, I just- wasn't paying attention, I guess I j-just got caught up in my own head. I’ve just been out here on the road all lonely, I got carried away. ” you try to reason with an innocent smile. 

He stares into your soul for another excruciating moment and you nervously lick your bottom lip while trying your absolute best not to let your eyes linger on his own _pretty plush lips_. Just peeking through dark facial hair, you sigh to yourself, imagining the feeling of his skin against your own. How heavenly _that_ would be. 

He leans back, giving a deep sigh, “Well alright then, just give me your license and registration.” 

You reach over and grab your wallet and registration, handing it over to him. 

He stares at your license intently, “You live off Jefferson street?”

You look up at him, inquisitively, “Yeah, just moved out here.” 

“Ah,” he nods with a small chuckle, “Makes sense. I live just down the street. I would’ve remembered seeing _you_ around town.” 

“Oh, really?” You pause, giving him a sly smile and quirking a brow, “Why’s that?” 

His eyes flash up at you from your paperwork, with a playful look 

“You got both brake lights out and your exhaust pipe has been scraping along the road. ‘M surprised you haven't gotten pulled over sooner.” 

Your smile drops, face burning with embarrassment. 

“Ah, I see.” You say, clearing your throat and looking down at your lap, processing the new information in dreadful silence, “I w-was unaware of that.” 

He snorts, fighting back a shit-eating grin. You look real cute with such blushy cheeks. 

“It’s alright. I promise I won't give you the ticket,” he says, reaching out to hand your papers back to you, and he notices you let out a big sigh of relief and reach. 

He pulls back, “if you promise to get ‘em fixed.” you nod enthusiastically, reaching out further.

He pulls back further, “...and also, consider _slowing the fuck down_.” 

You giggle nervously and look down, taking back your papers and setting them aside. Flip tilts his head, _you look even cuter smiling like that_.

“I will,” you say sheepishly, chewing on your lip. 

“Alright then, you have a good day.” he smiles, licking his own dry lips, flicking aside the rest of his cigarette onto the ground and tapping the roof of your car before leisurely walking back to his car. 

You watch him make his way back in your rearview mirror, _He looks even better walking away_

You smirk, sliding your sunglasses back on and shifting into _Drive_. 

~~

Flip lets out a tired yawn, taking small sips of his coffee and relishing the warm liquid soothing his throat, thanking God for such a wonderful creation.

He hums to himself, shuffling off his jacket and settling himself into his seat for another long day of doing absolutely nothing when he hears the familiar sounds of a _particularly_ loud engine.

Just as he suspected, your car comes zooming by, exhaust pipe still scraping along the road.

Hell, the pipe might’ve fallen even _more._

He grunts to himself, conflicted whether he wants to chase after you or not. He leans back and starts up his engine. 

It’s not like he has anything better to do. 

Flip could tell through the rear window of your car, that you were dancing and singing in your car and he snorts at the sight, before flipping on his lights. 

You see the blue and red lights flashing behind you and groan loudly, slamming your palm on the steering wheel. _Again?!_

You ease on your brakes and pull over, trying your best not to pout when you see _him_ saunter over to the side of your car. 

He leans against your car and you look down, trying not to look at his disappointed stare.

“I see you, uh, took my advice,” he smirks at you. 

“Listen,” you try to reason, sputtering in embarrassment “ I-I haven't had a lot of time to, y’know get around to getting my, uh brake lights-”

“-and the exhaust pipe.” 

“-Yeah and _that_ -“ 

“-and watching the speed.” 

“Yes! Of _course_. I only went sixty this time.” You say, proud. 

Flip snorts. Well, at least that’s an improvement. 

He scribbles on his pad, “Look, I don't wanna have to give you a ticket for all this, but-” 

“I know” you whine, “I’ve just been busy with work and all, this weekend. I promise! Officer...” you look over at his name tag, “...Zimmerman. _Please_ ” 

You give him a big pleading smile, hands clasped together in prayer. 

He clenches his jaw, staring at you and contemplating once again. Those big beautiful eyes looking at him desperately. 

He sighs, “Fine. I won't write you a ticket for the exhaust, or the lights.” 

You nearly squeal with delight, but he cuts you off, “- _but_ , I’m giving you a ticket for the speed.” 

You deflate in your seat and he just chuckles to himself, writing down a number on the ticket, “Don't worry, I got a guy off of Filmore Street. He can give you a good discount on some of the uh, repairs, here. His name is Al and he should be able to take care of you alright.” 

He tears off the ticket and hands it to you. You take it in resignation giving him a pouty look. 

“C’mon don't look at me like that” 

“Well I-” you huff, “ _How_ am I gonna be able to catch your attention if my shitty car can't? 

He opens his mouth to respond but he stops, breaking out into a smile and chucking, “You don't worry ‘bout that either, you already got it.” 

You smile back at him, proud you were able to make him blush and smile like that. A toothy grin that’s a rather refreshing sight compared to his usually rough exterior. 

How adorable. 

You both stare a bit at each other before you tap on your steering wheel awkwardly. 

“So, then uh-” Flip clears his throat, “I’ll leave you to get those fixed.”

You nod, “Thank you, Officer Zimmerman-” 

“Flip, you can call me Flip.” 

You pause and bite your lip to fight back a smile, “Okay. Thank you, Flip.” 

He nods, tapping on your roof, and walking back to his car while you stare at his backside longingly with absolutely _no_ intention of getting your car repaired.

~

You put your head in your hands as you hear the impending click of his boots as Flip walks up, setting his arm along your roof, once again. 

He stares at you through your window, but you don’t want to lower it. He motions his finger for you to roll it down and you sigh, eventually resigning. 

“Y’know, I’m staying in the _same_ place. All-day. Every day. Right?” his cocky grin audible in his voice. 

You just groan and he throws his head back, laughing.

“Alright, It looks like you _never_ have time to get your car fixed. Looks like we're gonna find some time,” he says, hooking his hand under your car handle. 

“Wait, what?” you look at him confused, “I can’t right now, I have work.” 

He waves it off, “Don't worry, I can call your work and let them know you got arrested.”

“ _Wait_ , what?!?” you whip your head around to him with wide eyes.

He snickers, “I’m not _arresting_ you, just a little....‘ immediate police-ordered auto repair’. C’mon. Out.” he motions for you to get out. 

You look at him like he’s crazy, “What? No! This is _my_ car!” 

“Yeah, and it’s on the verge of falling apart. You won't even make it to work. C’mon.” he beckons you again, and you just roll your eyes, getting out of your car and walking over to the passenger seat as he makes himself at home behind the wheel. 

“This is _not_ normal protocol,” you mumble. 

“Yeah, no it’s not,” he chuckles, “but, y’know, I’m getting bored, and I know where the auto shop is at so-”

He switches your car into _Drive_ and winks at you, “Let’s go.” 

~  
  


“See? That wasn't so bad.” Flip says, opening the door for you as you both walk out of the auto shop. 

You sigh. It really wasn't. The guy running the place, Al, was really sweet and gave you a damn good discount considering the damage. However, the disappointed look Flip gave you when Al went over the repairs, made you flash him the finger, and all he did was just laugh at you. Flip himself isn't exactly the _best_ driver either, so he is in no position to judge you. The way he was whipping around in your little car had you gripping onto the car door handle and nearly screaming. 

You don't know exactly the rules for Police Conduct with citizens but you know this for _sure_ isn't it. 

“You got a good discount, got everything fixed. Now I don't have to worry ‘bout whether your cars gonna explode on your commute or not.” he says, handing you your receipt. 

“Flip, don't tell me you were _worried_ about my wellbeing.” you flash him a devilish smile, nudging his shoulder with your own. 

He stops, opening his mouth before closing and looking away bashfully, choosing to watch the sunset on the hills instead. 

Flip takes a shaky breath, “Well, I mean that's why I’m there right? To make sure citizens like you don't go runnin’ themselves off a cliff.” he says with a light chuckle. 

You giggle, taking a moment to look up at him in appreciation, “Thank you for everything today, Flip. You didn't have to... do all this.” you say, gesturing to your refurbished car. 

“Oh, but I really _did,_ ” he snickers, “You would’a just drowned in tickets if not for me.” 

You smack him lightly and he chuckles

“Alright,” you sigh, looking down at your watch, “Now that I’ve missed work. I might as well just go home. You still have to cover for me.” you point at him. 

Flip shrugs nonchalantly, walking you over to the passenger seat “give ‘em the receipt and say you got into an accident. If they need any more information, they can call me.” 

“Right, right.” you nod, “...and your number is?” you slyly pull out a pen and pad of paper from the glove box, giving him a devious smile... 

He chuckles, leaning over and giving you the digits of his home phone number. 

You scribble them down quickly, “Thank you. Now I know who to call, y’know, if my _boss_ gets angry at me.” 

“Ah, yes of _course_.” he chuckles, starting up your engine and slamming on the gas pedal. 

Flip finally pulls up to his car, sitting idly behind the old massive billboard and shifts into _Park_ , turning to you. 

“Well,” he sighs, “I’ll leave you to it, then. Can't imagine anyone was needing me while I was gone.” he jokes dryly, forcing a smile. 

“Oh I’m sure that’s not true,” you assure him, resting your hand on his forearm. 

He looks down at your touch. He hates to admit that he’s actually had fun with you today, even doing something that seems like such a chore, but he’s really enjoyed himself around you. You’re funny and sweet, with the most adorable smile he’s ever seen. 

He wants to keep you smiling. 

Flip looks back up at you, and he smirks, “So, you’re _boss_ better be callin’ me soon.”

You laugh, “Yes, _of course,_ I’ll make sure of it.” you say with a wink. 

You both get out of the car, and you sit back into your driver’s seat, readjusting the seat settings to your liking, while Flip leans over, forearm resting on your roof. 

“Thank you so much, Flip. You really helped me out today.” you smile 

“Well, the other option was to ticket you out the ass.” he points out. 

You snort, leaning out the window and pressing a light kiss to his cheek, “ _Thank you,_ Officer Zimmerman.” 

Flip freezes with wide eyes and heat flooding his cheeks, hand moving to touch the spot you kissed, grinning to himself. 

“Don't worry. You'll still be able to pull me over. I’m not slowing down anytime soon.” You start your engine, and speed off, leaving Flip in a cloud of dust. 

He just laughs to himself, shaking his head and getting back into his own car. He stares out into pure nothingness as the last bright lights of the sun dies out among the hills before sighing and starting his own engine, making his way home. 

He’s got a call to catch. 

**Author's Note:**

> will there be a dirty part 2? ;;;;;) I'm horny so probably.  
> hang out with me on tumblr www.adumbdryer.tumblr.com


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